


We could be them

by MissCatherineEarnshaw



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - All Media Types, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - John Le Carré
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Humor, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCatherineEarnshaw/pseuds/MissCatherineEarnshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"They're sleeping together." Sherlock said confidently, after a quick look at them.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>"What makes you think so ?" John asked, staring at Haydon, who was leaning conspirationnaly towards Jim to whisper something to him. "I only heard they were very good friends."</em>
  <br/>
  <em>"Please. Have you ever seen two friends so oblivious on the notion of personal space ? And staring at each other with such adoring eyes ?"</em>
  <br/>
  <em>"That's not a proof, Sherlock." John answered curtly, suddenly deciding to move his knees away from his friend's legs. "People say this about us all the time."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ! This is my attempt at a Tinker Tailor Spy/Sherlock crossover. It  
> is set in the late thirties, as Jim and Bill are studying at Oxford- and well, Sherlock and John too, in this universe. I've begun to write it a year and a half ago, so my memory of the book is far more blurry now, but I'm going to do my best to avoid any canonical mistake concerning Le Carre's work.  
> Enjoy your reading :)

* * *

 

Before he met Sherlock Holmes, John Watson always felt out of place at Oxford.

It wasn't that he disliked the massive buildings, the endless turf, or the amiable chatter of his peers ; rather that he couldn't bring himself to consider that he really belonged there, that he was a part of _this_. Of course, he had always dreamed of entering the prestigious university, but even when he sent his application, a few month ago, he didn't genuinely consider the idea that he would be accepted. In fact it was only with the short letter explaining that he has been admitted at the St Peter's college that he began to realize that _this_ could really become a reality. And before he even had the time to think about it, he found himself getting a room and a roommate, choosing his timetable, attending his first class, in short all the things that were supposed to make him become a real student of Oxford. But for one reason on an other, it didn't happen. And whereas he entered the cricket team, was part of many different clubs, kept getting good grades, and managed to make some idle acquaintances, he never truly felt becoming part of any of the things revolving around him.

That is, until he met one particular Sherlock Holmes.

 

* * *

 

It all began rather idly, with Mike Stamford asking him to come with him to the library, because he needed help for the on-coming exam in anatomy. John simply shrugged and accepted, without thinking twice about it. After all, Mike was rather nice, and he had to study for this exam too.

When they arrived, the library was empty, save for one student, who seemed to be buried deeply in the lecture of an enormous book. Mike smiled knowingly as soon as he saw him as if he was thinking at a joke he was the only one to understand, and John couldn't help but inquire him about what was so specific about the studious stranger. Mike simply said that he knew him from his family and that he sometimes acted rather weirdly, without bothering to give more precision. John didn't insist and soon, they were sat in front of their enormous notebook, trying to memorize once again all the parts of the human body.

Five minutes later, the unknown guy turned up, a smile on his lips.

“May I borrow your ink, Stamford ? I've ran out of mine.”

Mike simply raised an eyebrow, visibly dubious and answered that he left his bottle in his room. Without thinking much, John searched his bag in order to extract the small bottle he always kept with him and gave it to the young man

“Thank you.” he said with a curt nod once he got the bottle. “My name is Sherlock Holmes, by the way. »

“I'm John Watson.” replied the blond while holding his hand. The stranger waited two full second before shaking it.

Now that he was closer, John was able to distinguish more precisely the features of the student- he was a tall and dark-curly haired young man, with sharp cheekbones and piercing grey-blue eyes. He was dressed very smartly, and his whole appearance, allied with his mocking and cold demeanor gave the impression of a very self-assured person. The whining of Mike behind them suddenly interrupted these observations.

“God, I _hate_ anatomy with all my heart.”

“It's a shame that you chose a medical course, then.” replied Holmes, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, anatomy and terminology are obviously needed in our career, but that doesn't make them less tedious to learn.” said John, feeling that he had to defend his mate.

“ I guess it's a matter of opinion. I personally tend to consider all subjects taught in medical studies boring. Which one would _you_ call interesting ?”

“ I think that medicine is one on the few studies which took all their importance and interest when you apply them. After all even anatomy can become something great if it helps you to cure somebody.”

“ Well, this is a nice, if very naive vision of the world. » exclaimed the young man. “I would be very interested to discuss about your vision of the medicine after a few years of practice. »

“Hopefully, you won't.” said John, greeting his teeth. He didn't bear well cynicism when it applied to the things he cared and believed in

“Well obviously no, unless you suddenly decide to change your decision to enrol as an army-doctor.”

Hearing that, John gasped and stared at the man, who smirked. Behind them, Mike Stamford chuckled.

“How did you... ? » he managed to ask eventually. Holmes shrugged.

“Obvious. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do. Thank you for the ink. You'll have it again by the end of the day.”

And with that he was gone, walking at long strides back to his book and notes. John gaped for what looked like an hour, before collecting himself.

“What was _that_  ?” he inquired to Mike, still dismayed.

“Oh, just Sherlock Holmes. Don't worry, he's always like that. I'm not sure you'll see your ink again, though.”

 

That night, when John came back from the library, he found his bottle of ink in his room, right in the middle of his desk. When he asked his insufferable flatmate Anderson, as always sprawled on the sofa, if he saw a tall and dark-haired man enter the room, the only answer he got was a lazy “ Don't think so”.


	2. Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got to point out that even if it's a Wip, I originally intended this story as a one shot so it shouldn't be too long- no longer than 4 chapters, anyway.
> 
> Enjoy your reading :D

* * *

 

The second time he met Sherlock Holmes, he was willing to do so.

 

It wasn't that their first encounter had left John a very pleasant memory. But it had been weeks since he last understood a thing in chemistry classes and when he complained to Mike about it, the answer of his friends had been rather unexpected.

“You should ask Holmes.”

“ Why, because being insulted is going to help me ?”John replied in the most sarcastic tone he could manage.

“ Well, maybe it could.” Mike said with a laugh. “But seriously, he's a real genius in chemistry. I don't understand half he's saying when he talks about it. If there's one student who should be able to explain you this clearly, it's him. And hes' not that bad a teacher when he wants to.”

John frowned and briefly thought that maybe it wasn't worth it after all. But that was before he spent another sleepless night sat behind this desk and trying to understand his last classes. After that, he just directly went into the library as soon as he had the opportunity, hoping to find Holmes there.

The dark-curly haired man was already in, busy reading an enormous book and taking notes like the last time John saw him. He froze for one second, before pulling himself together and walking straight to him. Holmes heard him coming, but didn't bother to raise his head until the medical student was just in front of him. He glanced at him for one second, before burying again his head in his volume. John winced, but he decided to insist and cleared his throat loudly. This time, Holmes deigned to accord him his attention.

“What ?” he asked brutally, sounding exasperated.

John decided to ignore it and replied as politely as he could manage :

“Hello. I'm John Wats..”

“I remember very well who you are, thank you very much” Holmes cut. “You're Stamford's friend and you're studying medicine as well. And right now, you've decided that you needed help in chemistry and thought somehow that I was the right one to ask – I suppose Stamford suggested it to you.”

John gasped for several seconds. Apparently, it was going to become a habit with this man. When he eventually recollected himself, he exclaimed, a bit louder than necessary

-”How the hell did you guess the second part ?”

-”I didn't guess.” Holmes replied immediately. “Merely observed that the only notebook in your bag was chemistry. As for Stamford, one doesn't need to be a genius to establish that you've only considered to ask me because our only mutual acquaintance advised you to do so.”

“I suppose not.” John answered carefully. God, this was going to be even more complicated than he had originally planned.

“So, what is it you don't understand, exactly ?” asked Holmes suddenly, breaking his train of thoughts.

“Uh ?” was the only answer John managed to articulate.

“In chemistry, Watson, please do keep up.”

“That means you're willing to help me, right ?” John asked hesitantly.

“I suppose I am. Don't make me regret it.” Holmes answered, gesturing to the empty chair beside him.

John couldn't help but nod and he carefully sat next to the young man, searching in his bag in order to find his papers.

“This is what I don't understand. ” John explained once he had recovered his notebook, pointing to the passage he couldn't decipher.

“God, it must be the _only_ thing worth learning in medicine and you don't even understand it ? You're even worse than I expected.”

“And you already had a such a high opinion of myself.” John grumbled. “But you know what ? It's fine. I really don't care. Just help me with this if it doesn't bother you too much. That's all I ask.”

To his surprise, Holmes executed and they spent the next two hours working together on John's lessons, which revealed surprisingly easy once they were explained by the curly-haired man. Apparently, Mike was right when he said that Holmes could be a good teacher when he wanted to. Of course, he managed in this short span of time to insult John at least a hundred time-idiot being the most recurrent jibe- but it really wasn't that surprising, considering how Holmes had talked to him since they had first met. In fact, John was quite pleased by how the whole thing went. By the end of the two hours they were talking less about chemistry, and more about their classes in general, the different subjects they studied-chemistry for Holmes, which wasn't that big a surprise- , and the college they were residing in- which was, unexpectedly, the same.

“I never saw you there. The place isn't that big, though.” couldn't help but ask John while he was filing away his things after having noticed that it was nearly quarter past eight- time had literally fled.

“Well, you only arrived this year after all. And I never was one for integrate myself by participating to tedious events organized for introduction or whatsoever.” replied Holmes, disdain showing all over his face.

“You're clearly above all that, aren't you ?” John asked with a barely hidden smile. At least one of his first conclusions about the man was true- he clearly wanted to appear as an insufferable git most of the time.

“Without any doubt. Not that it is particularly difficult, per se. The average intelligence displayed in this kind of manifestation rarely exceeds the mediocre.”

“I fear your judgment might be a bit excessive.” John scoffed. “After all, we can't all be geniuses.”

“It's hardly what I ask. I don't want other people to be as intelligent as me, only that they try to be so daft. And besides,” added the curly-haired man with a smirk, “you would find hard to convince me that you greatly estimate them. I can tell than you're far from being satisfied with your current roommate.”

“Well, Anderson sure isn't the best specimen, but I suppose he could be worse. At least, one cannot deny that he sometimes _tries_ to act nice toward me- we've just got too different characters to get along, that's all.” replied John without thinking much, before he stopped to consider what Holmes had just said to him. “Wait a minute, how did you even know I had problem with Anderson ? I never talked about it with anyone.”

“It's obvious, really.” answered Holmes enigmatically, the hint of a smile on his face. The man seemed to be pretty satisfied with himself.

“You said the same thing when you guessed about my careers ambition three weeks ago.” John remembered, frowning. “And I still don't know how you did that.”

“Observation is the key, Watson. It tells me for example that you haven't slept well that night and that you tend to pass most of your time after class at the library or at the field in order to avoid him.”

“Yes, but _how_?”

“You've got bags under your eyes, which were already there last time, only lighter. So bad night, even worse than usual. The librarian seemed pleased to see you, she even exchanged few words with you. She's usually rather snappy and irritable towards students, which means that she's used to your company and even took a liking to you. This would never have happened unless you've already spent a great deal of time here. Yet you don't seem to use the resources offered by the library-you always bring your own books and you don't look familiar with the classification system-, so the only reason you come here is to find a quiet place to study. Why not your room ? Noisy or annoying flatmate, obviously.”

“Alright.” John articulated slowly, thrown off by Holmes' logical reasoning. It seemed so easy, enunciated this way. “How did you know about the military, then ?”

Holmes smirked, then began an elaborate speech enumerating the observations which prompted his statement, from the way he cut his hair and his stance to this arms' musculature. When he finished to speak, John gaped at him for a whole minute before he eventually regained the control of his mouth.

“That was...amazing.”

Holmes stared at him, his mouth barely twitching. He seemed to be a bit thrown aback by this reaction. John feared he might have been a bit excessive in his amazement, but _really_ ? This was incredible.

“Do you really think so ?” Holmes asked with a frown.

“Of course it was. It was extraordinary.”

“That's not what people normally say.”

“What do people normally say? .”

“Piss off.”

Both of them began to chuckle, which earned them disapproving glares from the nearer students. Once they had recovered, Holmes took him by surprise by asking him, most unexpectedly, “Would you like to get a new roommate ?”

“I'm not sure I'm following you there, Holmes.” John answered with an incredulous smile.

“You don't like your current one. I don't like mine either-Wilkes would be tolerable only if he was able to shut up once a while, which is clearly not the case. So, I'm asking you again-would you like to share my room with me ? You can't be worse than him. After all, _you_ are at least moderately clever. And maybe I would prove to be a better company than your previous one. Although I do have to point that I play the violin and I sometimes don't talk for days.”

John gawked for several seconds, unable to process what just happened. Was it not going a bit too fast ? Of course, it was harder and harder to stand Anderson these days but that didn't mean he had to take a new one in a rush. Besides, he was quite positive that the administration would never allow something like that.

“I'm not sure it's even possible. You're not supposed to exchange roommate during the year. I heard Oxford's college's administration is quite tough on the subject.”

“It will be be fine.” Holmes said with a grin. “I can assure you than nobody will bother you on this matter.”

“What, are you friend with the chairman or something?”

“Sort of.” the dark-haired man shrugged, but he didn't care to elaborate. “Anyway, is this a deal ?”

“And what if Anderson or your roommate doesn't want to make the exchange ?”

“Wilkes would trade _me_ for a shark, so I suppose it won't bother him, even if it means he must leave his current room. And regarding your own...do you really consider this as a valid excuse ? It seems to me you're not very concerned about this Anderson well being.”

“Yes, I suppose you're right.” John agreed. He couldn't help but wonder what this part with the shark really meant, though. It sounded a bit worrying.

Anyway, it seemed that this was the answer Holmes wanted to hear since he grinned and held out his hand. John took it without thinking much. Maybe the boy was right, and this was the good thing to do. For all of them.

“So, this is settled then.” Holmes said in a satisfied tone. In one fluid movement, he stood and took his stuff. He was already heading back to the entry when John realized.

“Holmes, wait ! I don't even know the number of your room.”

“Please, if we're going to be roommates, I think you're allowed to call me Sherlock. And the room is 221B.”

And with a wink, the man exited the library in a rather dramatic fashion. While he watched him disappear, John couldn't help but think that he may just have made a huge mistake.

 


End file.
